


Distraction

by akamine_chan



Series: Distraction, Distracted, Distracting [1]
Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_snippets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-19
Updated: 2009-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-15 15:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser skated the hot iron back and forth, back and forth, pressing a perfect crease in his handkerchief. He folded the cloth, applied more heat and pressure until it was perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mikes_grrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikes_grrl/gifts).



> Written for the LJ community ds_snippets
> 
> Unbeta'd and written five minutes ago, so might not be any good. If so, Kimboosan, please don't be upset that I dedicated something bad to you. It wasn't intentional, I swear. *g*. Dedicated to Kimboosan, who has been having a tough time of things lately.
> 
> Prompt: crease

Fraser skated the hot iron back and forth, back and forth, pressing a perfect crease in his handkerchief. He folded the cloth, applied more heat and pressure until it was perfect.

He'd pulled out his entire drawer of handkerchiefs when he'd noticed that one of them had been unevenly ironed—it had provided him with a necessary chore to keep him busy and distracted from the thoughts swirling in his head.

It had been hard, but he'd managed to avoid Ray for the last three days. He wasn't sure how much longer he could continue to do so—he was running out of tasks to occupy himself.

The Consulate had never been so clean and polished before.

At night, exhausted, he'd collapsed into his cot and hoped to fall immediately into a dreamless slumber. Instead, he laid there for hours, staring at the ceiling, hands clenched against the desire to touch himself while imagining that it was _Ray_ touching him.

When he did fall asleep, it was to dream of rough hands and a hot, wet mouth and Ray's voice whispering filthy promises into his ear. He'd jerk awake, teetering on the edge of orgasm. He'd inhale, force his hand away from his aroused flesh and think about snow and ice, about penguins and pingos and all manner of cold, unarousing things.

Sometimes, it worked. Most times it didn't. He was starting to get a little chafed.

He'd burned Ray's words into his memory, mouthing them silently, trying to discern the hidden meanings from contextual clues. Three little words, panted breathlessly against his lips as Ray brought their mouths together for another wet kiss. Surely Ray didn't mean it, couldn't mean it. They _had_ to be words spoken in the heat of a passionate kiss, empty of promise, meaningless. Had to be.

-fin-


End file.
